


Wrought in Rust

by CleverCorgi



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Comeuppances later, Doctor Bunnymund to the rescue, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Poisoning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-25 08:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3803845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CleverCorgi/pseuds/CleverCorgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jack gets invited to Dionysus' yearly Bacchanalia for the first time and ends up poisoned, Bunny must spring into action to not only save his best friend, but figure out whodunit, and why, before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frostbitten-pooka-roo](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=frostbitten-pooka-roo).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gift-fic for [frostbitten-pooka-roo](http://frostbitten-pooka-roo.tumblr.com/), per their [initially random musing/request on Tumblr](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/116154310995/frostbitten-pooka-roo-ickaimp-clevercorgi).
> 
> I consulted with Ickaimp regarding the poisons I might use, given her expertise on the subject.
> 
> Icka, Kayasurin, and FrostOverlord provided plotting/brainstorming assistance, as well as intermittent betas.
> 
> Rating may increase if the muse suggests smut.
> 
> Enjoy!

Jack tossed his hoodie aside, and laid back on the grassy hill; Bunny was painting on his canvas a few feet away, not needing Jack to pose at the moment. It was too warm in the Warren, and besides, he’d just had the best idea.

He snatched one of the small paint cans next to Bunny’s feet, and poured out a generous amount of blue onto his bare stomach, swapping for one with white paint once he was satisfied. Jack added a little bit to the mess on his body, and set the can back with its companion. Bunny didn’t notice, too busy painting the portrait of Jack from his mind’s eye.

Jack swirled his fingers in the puddle on his stomach, mixing the white with the blue to lighten it. That done, he gestured at the loose egglets that were wandering around the hillside. It was almost a week after Easter, and Bunny’d told him he could do whatever he wanted with those that remained since they’d be expiring soon anyway.

Several of them approached Jack, curious. He pressed his whole hand into the paint on his stomach, and then reached out for an egg, gently picking it up and carefully placing his entire hand around it. After a few seconds, he set the egg back down just as gently, and withdrew his hand, leaving behind a bright blue handprint.

The other egglets rushed forward to examine the painted one, which was turning this way and that. After a moment, the remaining plain ones rushed forward, hopping around to get Jack to paint them too.

He laughed, and repeated the process for each egglet, alternating hands as well as grips, to give them different patterns.

It wasn’t until one of the egglets ran into Bunny’s leg that he noticed what was going on behind and below him.

“Oi! Don’t go wasting my oil paints on the googies, Frostbite!” Bunny chastised Jack, turning from his easel to shake his brush at him, splattering a few cerulean droplets across Jack’s arm.

“Hey now, Cottontail, I’m just having some harmless fun! And besides, look at them! They’re happy with their new paint jobs, aren’t you little fellas?”

The egglets bounced around cheerfully, and began chasing each other in circles around Bunny’s feet. Jack laughed again.

After a few moments of glaring, Bunny’s façade cracked with a smile. “Fine, fine. Just… don’t waste the paint, okay? I don’t want to have to go mix more Prussian Blue just yet. I’m almost done with your hoodie though. Wanna see?”

“Sure!” Jack hopped up, ignoring the excess paint running down his front; he could always wash it out later, and it wasn’t like he didn’t already have whorls and squiggles of paint on the rest of his body from bored finger-painting.

He leaned over Bunny’s shoulder, and gasped. “That’s amazing!”

Bunny’s expression was just too pleased for Jack’s taste. He dipped a finger in the wet paint on his stomach and dashed a mark across Bunny’s nose, which twitched cutely under the pressure.

“Oi!” the lagomorph exclaimed, swiping at Jack’s head with the brush.

Jack failed to dodge, and his cheek was graced with a streak of blue-white paint. A bright grin stole across his face.

“Paint war!” he declared, slapping a hand to his stomach, and then wiping it across Bunny’s chest. He laughed, and ran. “Catch me if you can, Cottontail!”

Bunny growled in his wake, and gave chase. Jack though he’d had the lead and the advantage of surprise, so it came as quite the shock when a dollop of paint smacked him in the back of the head.

He leapt and spun around, floating gently through the air a few feet from the ground, and shouted, “Hey, no fair! You’ve got better aim than me!”

“Then you’d best get better at dodging, mate!”

Bunny flicked another dollop of paint off his brush before dipping it back in the can he’d apparently picked up. Jack dodged that one easily - and right into a stream of paint that was pouring out of a rabbit hole in the bottom of an outcropping. He was instantly covered in a rainbow from the neck down.

How had Bunny created a tunnel from the River so quickly?

“Cheater!” he exclaimed, pouting.

The Pooka laughed, bending over and clutching his stomach. Jack paused and smiled at the sight; it wasn’t often he caused such a strong reaction in Bunny.

His smile turned mischievous.

It also wasn’t often Bunny made himself such a perfect target.

Jack flit over and snagged the paint can from his loose grip, and dumped it over Bunny’s head. He flailed about in surprise, and fell on his ass. Jack fell out of the air, laughing, and landed on the Pooka, who promptly rolled them over and pinned Jack’s hands above his head. Jack squirmed a bit against Bunny’s strong grip, but couldn’t stop laughing long enough to put much effort into it.

“Give up, Frostbite?” Bunny taunted.

Jack wasn’t sure if it was the situation, the position, or the warmth radiating off of Bunny’s frame, but he felt a slight blush steal across his face, even as he grinned and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. You win. _This_ time.”

Smiling, Bunny’s sat up, still on Jack’s hips, and crossed his - now paint-damp - arms across his chest. “You mean every time, don’t ya, mate?”

Jack snorted, and leaned up onto his elbows. His hair was sticking to his head oddly, so he concentrated for a moment, freezing the wet paint, and shook his head, flinging frozen paint chips everywhere.

Bunny frowned down at his body. “Wish I could do that.”

Jack shrugged. “You get first bath. I can wait; it’s only skin.”

The Pooka nodded. “True enough. I’ll wash your clothes while you’re in the bath, after we switch, _if_ you put the canvas and paints away. _Carefully_.”

“Deal.”

  
  


~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

  
  


Jack padded, barefoot as always, out of the bathroom with a large towel hung loosely around his waist, drying his hair with another, and spotted Bunny sitting on one of the dark green couches scattered about the living space, with a few sheets of cream-colored paper in his paw. Jack’s clean clothes were laid out on a cushy brown chair, and his other personal effects were in a small pile atop the similarly-colored ottoman in front of it.

“Whatcha got there, Fluffy?” he asked, dropping both towels, letting the one around his waist fall carelessly to the cool stone floor.

“Letters, actually,” Bunny said, looking up at Jack as he pulled his hoodie over his head.

He was staring at Jack oddly when his head poked out of the top. Jack shot him a questioning look while he worked his arms out through the sleeves.

“What’s the look for?” he asked as he grabbed his trousers to put on.

Bunny visibly shook himself and looked back down at the aforementioned letters, holding one out to Jack. “Nothing. Says here you’ve been invited to this year’s Bacchanalia.”

Jack finished tucking himself into his trousers and buttoning his pants before he took the proffered letter. He skimmed it quickly, and glanced up at Bunny in confusion. “Bacchanalia?”

The Pooka snorted. “Right. Figures you wouldn’t know about it, since I got the chaperone letter.”

The sprite blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

Bunny chuckled. “So here’s the thing, mate. The Bacchanalia is a festival Dionysus holds every year. It usually falls around the time of Easter, and Dionysus is an old friend-”

Jack snorted. Bunny rolled his eyes.

“- yeah, yeah, as my friends go, ha ha, stuff it, drongo - and I’ve got a standing invitation every year. I usually go for a day or two in years when it falls after Easter. The last few years I’ve been too busy or exhausted when it has, though.”

Jack gestured with his letter. “And ‘chaperone?’”

“First-timers are normally accompanied by a chaperone, who’s responsible for answering any questions and protecting their honor. Mostly from Zeus, the randy old goat.”

That startled a laugh out of Jack. He reread the letter, humming to himself, and glanced up at Bunny when he finished. “It sounds fun. Would you be willing to go this year?”

Bunny looked Jack up and down, before nodding. “Sure. You missed a button, by the way.”

Jack shrugged and fixed his trousers. “Awesome! And thanks. Looks like it starts tomorrow?”

The Pooka nodded in confirmation. “So why don’t you spend the night then? I’ve got the spare room already made up, since you’ve been kipping here more often of late. Then we can head out around noon, since Greece is several hours behind us.”

Jack fist-pumped, dancing in place, his feet slapping quietly against the stonework.

“Yes! I love your cooking!” he crowed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Pancakes?”

Bunny laughed. “Sure, mate. Sure.”

  
  


~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

  
  


“That’s an old, dilapidated amphitheater,” Jack opined as they came out of the rabbit hole, and into a field near the ruin. “Doesn’t look very festive to me.”

Bunny chuckled, wrapping an arm around Jack’s shoulder and turning him to face a particular spot on the far side of the ruin. “It’s the remains of the Theatre of Dionysus, Frostbite. But that, right there?” He pointed at a dark, shadowy spot. “That’s the Doorway.”

Jack bumped the Pooka’s chest with his shoulder. “To what?”

Bunny let go and gestured grandly. “To Dionysus’ realm, of course! It’s where the Bacchanalia is held every year.”

Jack grinned and nodded. “Okay, that makes more sense. So…” he continued, spinning around to walk backwards as they started across the field. “Are any of the other Guardians gonna be there?”

Bunny snorted. “North isn’t invited. Ever. Dionysus thinks he’s too rowdy.”

Jack paused and stared at him. “ _Dionysus,_ the god of wine and parties and revelry, thinks _North_ is too rowdy? _Oh my god_. Is _that_ why you keep distracting me from going to his parties?”

“Got it in one,” Bunny said, nodding. “Tooth always declines, and Sandy almost always forgets.” He shrugged, and they continued walking. “Dionysus is used to it; most dream-spirits are rather forgetful of ‘mundane’ things like dates. All of them have a standing invitation, like I do, and show up maybe once a century, at best. Sandy managed twice in the last two decades, and really impressed them with his memory.”

Jack laughed. “So, anything I need to know before we head in?”

“Just stick close for now, as I told you; keep me in sight at all times, and I think you’ll be fine. I trust you not to get in trouble, just… watch out for Zeus? He can be a bit of a troublemaker on his best days. Poseidon isn’t much better; too grumpy, most of the time-”

“ _I_ know someone who’s too grumpy most of the time.”

He lightly cuffed Jack upside the head. “Oi! It’s been three years since you joined us; I’d like to think I’ve improved a _little_.”

Jack held up his hand, fingers a centimeter or so apart. Bunny huffed.

“Gee, thanks.” He flipped Jack off; the sprite simply laughed again. “Let’s see… Hades and Persephone are good people, Demeter is a mother hen, Aphrodite won’t give you the time of day unless she decides she wants in your pants - just holler for me; she doesn’t like the fact I’ve turned her down three times already - and the rest are pretty alright.” He paused, and hummed consideringly. “At least, for those that come. Dionysus _has_ to invite Zeus, because he’s the boss, but the rest of the crazy blokes and sheilas are banned, for the most part.”

Jack nodded and vaulted over a marble seat instead of moving around it. “Okay. Not too hard. Most of the ‘Big Names’ are cray cray, except for Hades, his wife, and her mother. Dionysus must be alright, because you _actually like him_.”

Bunny swiped at Jack, but he ducked in time, for once. They fell into companionable silence for the rest of the walk.

“Here we are,” he announced as they came to a stop in front of the cracked archway that ostensibly led under the theatre. “Let me just knock, and she should open right up.”

Bunny tapped out an odd rhythm on the marble façade. A few seconds of silence passed before a pinpoint of light appeared in the middle of the door-space, before it flashed once and the air inside the frame began to shimmer.

“There we go. Here, take my arm, Jackie,” Bunny instructed, offering his arm. “It’s disorienting the first few times you go through the portal.”

Jack nodded and took the proffered arm. They stepped through and Jack nearly stumbled and would have fallen flat on his face if not for the arm he was holding; Bunny caught him mostly by virtue of being what Jack tripped _into_.

He grunted at the impact, and then helped Jack right himself. “See what I mean, mate?”

Jack glanced around the … ‘atrium’ was probably the best word for it. Maybe ‘foyer’, considering it’s location on the other side of an entrance, but this place was too big for what he was used to calling the latter. There were several large circular couches scattered about, each perhaps a few yards in diameter, and a smattering of cushions were strewn liberally around the room. There were a few spirits present, all in variations of ancient Greek attire Jack had only seen in movies and pictures before.

The room itself was dressed in a panoply of colors which somehow avoiding clashing. Just. Solidly-colored and embroidered banners hung from the ceiling, and rugs were spread across the floor in a seemingly-random, overlapping pattern.

All-in-all, Jack was impressed, as he expected he was supposed to be. There was a large, elegantly-carved wooden door on the far side of the chamber, and muted music could be heard from beyond it, as well as the susurrus of a crowd.

He nodded at Bunny. “Yeah, I-”

The Wind swirled around him gleefully, ruffling his hair and sending the banners fluttering, effectively cutting him off.

“What is it, Wind?”

The currents spun around Jack a few more times, then tore off, forming a small cyclone a few feet from Jack and tossing several pillows about the chamber. After a few seconds, the air seemed to solidify, and a curly-brown-haired youth appeared before them, seeming barely older than Jack in physical age. His blue-and-white chiton complimented his warm olive complexion, and hung loosely off of his lithe frame; much like Jack, he wore no footwear. He was grinning from ear to ear.

Jack blinked several times, gaping. “... _Wind_?”

The youth nodded, bouncing on his toes much like Jack would. Watching the youth - the Wind? _Really_? - Jack noted that the edges of the tunic, and his hair, for that matter, drifted off into cloud-like wisps around the edges, which seemed to sway in a non-existent breeze.

Jack shared a look with Bunny, who looked just as confused and surprised as Jack felt. He turned back to the Wind. “How? What…?”

Before the youth could answer, a fair-skinned, white-haired girl ran over, her pale robes fluttering in her wake, and hugged the youth with seemingly all her might. The Wind laughed, and returned the hug, spinning in place and floating a couple feet off the ground before settling back down.

“Father! It’s so good to see you again. It’s been ages! Where have you been? Did you get a new assignment? Was that it?” She glanced at Jack, and her eyes widened. “You did! Oh, I’m so happy for you!”

Jack turned to Bunny and mouthed ‘Father?’, but the lagomorph was watching the other two spirits with a look of dawning comprehension. In fact, Bunny looked almost… delighted.

_Well, at least one of us knows what’s going on._

He cleared his throat. “Um. Could someone please explain?”

The youth turned around and bowed to them, speaking up finally, in a low baritone. “Jack! I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to speak to you for so long! Yes, I am the Wind, as you’ve always called me, but I have many other names too; not unexpected for one like myself.”

Jack blinked. “One like yourself?”

The Wind laughed, a sound that somehow reminded Jack of flying. “I forget sometimes how isolated you’ve been; I am a force of nature. Here, in Greece, I am known as Boreas.”

He gestured at the woman, who had backed away politely after he’d released her. “And this is my daughter, Khione. She is a nymph, and the goddess of snow.”

Bunny cleared his throat. Strangely, to Jack’s mind, he was _smiling_.

“And you’re only able to manifest here because it’s a place of power for the Olympians, and not out in the wider world because Jack doesn’t have enough believers. He leeches belief off of you, Jack, so once you’ve got a stronger base, he’ll likely be able to manifest whenever he wants.”

Boreas blinked, surprised. “I sometimes forget how old you are, Bunnymund. You know so much about us, it’s shocking at times.”

Jack laughed. “Yeah, he does that a lot, the old coot.”

“Oi!”

Jack ignored Bunny, and turned a bright smile on Boreas. “It’s great to finally meet you properly! And your daughter.” Jack nodded at Khione. “I’d like to thank you for always taking care of me.”

Boreas smiled. “My pleasure.” He glanced at Khione and the smile widened. “You know, with how youthful I’ve felt since we were paired up, I’ve come to view you as something of a brother. In a way, that’d make you like an uncle to Khione.”

“Father!” she exclaimed, face coloring. “Stop it. You’re just putting on airs.” She turned to Jack. “Don’t mind him; he always does this just to embarrass me.”

Jack laughed. “‘Putting on airs,’ huh?” She blushed brighter. “I don’t mind the association at all.”

Khione’s blush subsided as she smiled at Jack, and nodded.

Jack frowned, a thought striking him. “Hey, Boreas? Why are you so _young_? I could have sworn the depictions I’ve seen of you were a lot older.”

Boreas shrugged. “My appearance tends to match the outlook of the one in my care. You’re, what, seventeen physically? Give or take?” Jack nodded. “Which means I’m probably a year or two older. Probably. It’s usually how it works.”

Jack punched Boreas lightly in the shoulder, which was only at eye-level to Jack. “And noticeably taller. You sure you’re not a giant?”

Boreas snorted. “Hardly. I’ve always suspected this was a side effect of the belief leaching. Speaking of which, I don’t think I’ll be able to manifest properly until you hit a thousand or so.” He shrugged. “If I’m doing the metaphysical math right in my head.”

“Eww. Of course there’s math for that,” Jack sighed. “Ah well. I’m glad we can finally speak, but I believe there’s a party I’ve been invited to?”

Bunny cut in. “Yes, there is.” He glanced around the group of four. “Shall we?”

“I’m sure Dionysus is positively dying to meet you, Jack,” Khione said.

Jack laughed, and politely offered her his arm; she took it graciously, with a little bow of her head. Boreas floated ahead of them, and went straight to the door.

“I’ve already died to meet all of you, so that seems fitting,” Jack said, laughing at his own morbid joke. He ignored the strange look Bunny shot him. “Well then, let’s go have a meet-and-greet!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, something nefarious happens.


	2. Chapter 2

Aster had never suspected that Jack’s wind might actually be the force itself. Or _himself_ , as Boreas currently remembered his identity; Aster had known the forces for far longer than life had existed on Earth, and their default state was genderless. Their relationship with him was a complicated one, but not negatively; simply... complicated.

The three primal forces - wind, water, and earth - forgot their pasts every now and again, only to remember them suddenly centuries or millennia later. Aster blamed the waxing and waning belief in their various incarnations for that, but he was always happy when they remembered him properly. They’d been really cute spirit children, eons back, and they always returned to those forms when they finally remembered _how_.

They almost always found him shortly thereafter, and clung like limpets, joyfully crying ‘papa’, or some variation thereof. It was terribly adorable, the way they’d adopted him.

As it was, this meant that he was more than happy to allow Boreas and Khione to take over some of the chaperoning duties. They were very exuberant, and Jack was enjoying getting to know the Wind immensely. He hung back and kept them in sight, of course, but otherwise resolved to leave Jack to his own devices unless he started pestering Aster directly.

This left him free to handle greetings from the other spirits, and participate in several conversations over the course of their first few hours there as he meandered through the scattered tents and stalls set up around the expansive, groomed fields Dionysus maintained in this pocket realm. Aster often wondered how he managed to maintain such a large personal realm without the belief to back it up, though he’d never gotten around to actually asking.

Given his relative freedom, he was also able to keep a running tally of how much Jack was drinking.

It would have alarmed him if Jack hadn’t previously apprised him of his body’s oddities. Amongst other strange behaviors, Jack had _never_ been able to get drunk, only happily tipsy and buzzed. Granted, he’d stay like that for _hours_ longer than usual, but he didn’t mind it so much because - of course- ‘it was fun.’

He watched fondly, even while he conversed with others, as Jack spent time interacting with several of the important spirits - notably, Hades and Persephone seemed to take an immediate liking to him, much to Aster’s pleasure, even if he’d expected that outcome - accepting little gifts, usually specially-prepared treats, or particular vintages of wine that the spirit in question favored, and had Dionysus procure especially for them. Jack seemed to be having a blast, and Aster privately resolved to ensure Jack was allowed to attend every year.

Gaia, the natural force of earth, eventually found him and, as usual when she didn’t remember their shared past, translated her feelings of familiarity into her usual motherly temper. They exchanged the usual pleasantries before she started in on him:

“Have you found a lovely mate yet? Are you eating well? Sleeping alright? Do I need to make you a-”

Question after question, on and on, while fussing over his fur, as she always did when she was like this. Aster didn’t mind it much, but it was terribly distracting nonetheless; she demanded his full attention, or he’d upset her, and he never wanted that. It occurred to Aster that only Gaia and Jack ever got away with petting him. Gaia always fussed over its condition; Jack claimed he liked the texture.

He blamed her distraction for how Dionysus and Eros were able to sneak up on him so easily.

“Hey there, Fluffy!” Dionysus exclaimed, slapping him affectionately on the back, and causing Aster to nearly jump out of his skin.

Gaia frowned at the other two spirits. She never much cared for their antics, Aster knew, but couldn’t really bring herself to express it outwardly, considering it rude to do so. Gaia made an excuse instead, as usual, and shuffled off to find someone else to mother for a while.

Eros grinned. “Thought you could use an escape from her mothering. You were beginning to look almost stifled.”

Aster threatened to cuff Eros upside the head, but the impish deity only laughed at him. He rolled his eyes, and stated simply, “I don’t mind it so much.”

Dionysus gestured off behind Aster, and to his left. “I do think you might mind that though. Looks like Zeus managed to corner Jack while he was separated from Boreas, and you were distracted.”

The almost-possessive growl was out before he’d even registered it. Aster spun on the spot, and began to move to Jack’s defense, only to have Dionysus himself restrain him. He rounded on the god.

“Oi! Let me go-”

“Aster, if you’d take two seconds to look, you’d realize Jack has Zeus well in-hand.” Pausing, he grimaced, and amended, “Figuratively speaking, of course.”

Eros added, “Zeus challenged Jack to a drinking contest. A favored trick of late, to wear down his amorous target of the day into saying ‘yes.’”

Aster’s growl subsided as he processed that statement. It turned into a surprised laugh a moment later. “Well, that explains why Boreas didn’t intervene; Jack is physically incapable of getting drunk. Zeus is going to lose.”

Dionysus glanced between Aster and Jack, and back again. “Really? I just assumed Jack had an iron constitution, with the way he’s been drinking all day.”

He shook his head. “His biology doesn’t work quite the same as most other living beings. No matter how much he drinks, he can never seem to get beyond ‘pleasantly tipsy.’”

Dionysus and Eros laughed.

“Oh, this we’ve got to see,” Dionysus said. “We’ll be back shortly.”

They wandered over for a closer look, while Aster stayed put, watching proudly from afar as Jack drank Zeus under the table. In short order, Zeus passed out. Jack hopped up and crowed in triumph. Dionysus and Eros moved in to congratulate him, and appeared to be steering him gently towards Aster; probably felt he should spend some time with his chaperone.

He was tapped lightly on the shoulder, and turned around. He sighed mentally. _Hecate_.

She was dressed in her usual attire - long, flowing black and purple robes, decorated with dozens of golden ornaments - and was wearing the familiar, barely-disguised sneer he’d come to expect from her. Her dark hair was tied back for once, done up in a relatively tasteful, partially-braided tail at the nape of her neck.

“Bunnymund! Such a pleasure to see you this year! We’ve missed your… _illustrious_ presence the past several years.”

By which she meant she was quite glad he’d been gone. They’d never quite seen eye-to-eye, and through no direct fault of Aster’s own, for once. Hecate considered him, by proxy through the spirits known as the Keres - which ostensibly worked alongside her, at times - something of a rival, since his mere presence as the Seasonal of Spring inhibited their abilities to feast on pollution, both literal waste, and metaphorical. In turn, that weakened the Keres, and reduced their utility for her work.

_Ipso facto_ , Aster was an obstacle, and she made no bones about the fact she disliked him greatly, though she usually feigned enough politeness to not outright _say_ it.

“Hecate. A… _pleasure_ to see you again,” he deadpanned. Two could play at this game.

“Come now, Bunnymund, why so serious?” She sighed dramatically, just a few shades shy of mocking. “Surely you jest. Come, we should share a toast. Perhaps to your… _friend’s_ success against Zeus’ overtures?”

She was up to something, and he didn’t want to deal with it. Always scheming, that one.

So he responded, bluntly, “And then you’ll leave?”

She glared at him, but nodded. “If that is your wish. Yes. Well?”

He sighed, and nodded. “Fine, fine. I don’t have a drink, though.”

“Ah! Well. I came prepared.” She clapped her hands.

_Of course she did._

One of her ever-hovering Keres appeared at her side, holding a tray with two goblets of wine. She picked them up daintily by the rims, her multitude of rings clinking against the golden cups. She handed one to Aster.

“To your companion, may he enjoy his success!”

Aster raised his cup in acknowledgement - and was suddenly empty-handed. Jack danced around him, grinning like a fool.

“Heeey, Bun-Bun, drinking without me?” Jack said, grinning like the little devil he was. “Too bad. Mine now!”

Jack downed the wine in one go. Aster plucked the now-empty cup from Jack’s hand and set it back on the tray. Hecate glared daggers at Jack for several seconds - not that he noticed, or cared - harrumphed, snapped her fingers, and marched off with her retinue.

_Good riddance._

Aster scanned about the crowd, looking for - ah. There he was. He directed Jack’s attention off to their right.

“See Boreas over there?” Jack nodded, a gentle rolling motion more than the usual firm nod; a definitive sign he was as drunk as he could get. “Why don’t you go pester him for a bit longer, and then we can retire for the day.”

Jack whined in the back of his throat. Aster snorted.

“We’ll come back tomorrow, don’t worry mate.”

Jack made a happy sound and obediently flounced off to find Boreas.

Aster turned around to find twin considering gazes being leveled at him. He quirked an eyebrow, an expression he was fully aware he’d adopted from Jack.

“Dionysus? Eros? Care to explain why you’re looking at me like that?”

They shared an odd look. Eros gestured at Dionysus, shrugging. Dionysus turned back to address Aster, and asked, tone light, “So, how’s your eromenos doing out in the wider world? I hear he’s been gaining believers at a rapid pace.”

Aster stared at him, speechless for a moment, before finally spluttering, “M-my _eromenos?_ I- why that’s- that’s totally preposterous! You’ve both gone round the bend! Jack’s my best mate, not my lover!”

They shared a look, and guided Aster to a nearby alcove where they could sit. He distantly noted that it was fairly private, as the Bacchanalia went. Probably intended for trysts, not… interventions. Or whatever this was.

Eros tsked. “Bunny, Bunny, Bunny. How you can be so oblivious, I don’t even know. It’s quite sad, isn’t it, Dion dear?”

“Most deplorable, yes. Aster, you’re positively _possessive_ of that boy, and, might I add, he of you.” Dionysus threw his arms wide. “Why, he even smells so strongly of you, I’m surprised no one else has suggested him as your eromenos!”

Aster growled. “I told you, we’re not like that.”

They sighed in unison.

“And we’re telling you,” Dionysus continued. “That you - both of you, from what we’ve seen - are kidding yourselves that there’s not this… _potential_ between you, just waiting to boil over.”

“You’ve both cracked a fruity! There’s no way I-”

Eros interjected. “Bunny, you forget. I am a god of _love_. I can sense the tension between you two. If it were any more palpable, I swear the festival would have burst into flames the moment you arrived.”

“That’s not-”

Dionysus cut him off again. “Aster, _listen to us_. You know we’re right. Somewhere, in that thick skull of yours.”

“I don’t- that’s not-” he spluttered, but his mind was already whirling. The two gods helpfully began listing off actions they’d witnessed in just the last few hours.

All the casual touching, some of it fairly intimate in nature. The way each of them watched the other like hawks, jealous of any attention the other received that seemed even remotely beyond polite conversation. The way he’d just about gone on the warpath against Zeus, of all spirits, just because Jack was quite obviously _his_.

This, and more, gave Aster pause, and he was only left with one, inescapable, conclusion.

“... I- am an idiot,” he declared, slumping back against the chair, eliciting a faint creak from the sudden shift in balance.

The two gods grinned happily at him in triumph.

“I knew you were smarter than you looked,” Eros opined.

“Oi!”

Dionysus laughed, and interjected, “We’re only looking out for what’s best for you, dear friend of mine. It’s been… millennia, at least, since you expressed interest in anything other than your eggs, let alone a person. Let alone _romantically_.”

Aster sighed, nodding morosely. Dionysus and Eros frowned.

“Why so sad? I thought you’d be elated?” Eros asked, in obvious confusion.

Slowly, he related his complicated and troubled past with Jack. They nodded along, dawning understanding coloring their features as he finished.

“That does pose quite the conundrum, Aster. Though, as Eros observed earlier, the feelings are, on some level, very much mutual. We chose to make you aware of them first, to allow you to proceed as you saw fit. We won’t intervene further; it is not our place. But, a piece of friendly advice?”

Aster gestured for him to continue. Eros took Dionysus’ hand and squeezed it affectionately.

_Huh. So it’s like that, is it? This is new._

He was suddenly struck by the contrasting complexions of the two god’s before him - Eros about as pale as the Greeks got and Dionysus the polar opposite - and his artistic side immediately itched to capture that image in paint, or maybe charcoal, but he pushed that urge aside for now and, instead, looked at their joined hands pointedly. Dionysus coughed, a light blush suffusing his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t rub it in.”

Aster smirked at him, satisfied he’d at least shared some of the embarrassment around.

“Don’t let it sit, like we did. It could go on for decades. Centuries, even. It’s not worth the angst.”

Aster nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s true. Still, it’s a lot to think about.”

They were abruptly interrupted by Jack spinning into the alcove and flopping into Aster’s lap. He looked up, ‘innocently’ surprised. “Fancy meeting you here, Sir Fluffybutt. Fluffiest butt in all the land.”

Jack was too busy giggling at his own joke to notice the look Eros shot Aster. His ears drooped in embarrassment, though he still nodded. In this new light, it was plain to see. He’d just have to proceed with caution, so as to avoid stepping on any of their old wounds. It would take some thinking, but… he felt a sort of peaceful calm settle over him at the idea, instead of the trepidation he’d expected.

If that wasn’t a sure sign of the feelings he apparently held for Jack, he didn’t know what was.

Aster scooped Jack up, kicking his staff over to Boreas, who caught it handily. “That’s it, ice block. You’re cut off. It’s back to the Warren with you.” Jack whined and pawed at his chest. “Nope. No getting out of this today. You can come back tomorrow, _if_ you behave.”

Jack pouted for all of two seconds, crossing his arms across his chest, before sighing dramatically, and announcing, as grandly as a moderately-tipsy person could, “Fiiine. I _suppose_ we can do it your way. For now.” His expression turned pleading, though his cheeks flushed prettily. “Oh great Sir Fluffybutt, my legs seem to have failed me! Won’t you carry me home?”

_Prettily_. By El-Ahrairah’s arse, he was so gone it wasn’t funny. He could see Dionysus and Eros trying desperately not to laugh. He glared at them for good measure.

“Fine, fine. I expect you’d just trip over thin air anyway.” He glanced at Boreas, and smirked. “He’s good at getting underfoot, you know.”

The other two gods lost what composure they’d maintained and broke down laughing.

“Hey!” Boreas exclaimed in indignation. “I resemble that remark!”

“Do you?” Aster asked innocently. “We should head home. Dionysus, do you mind terribly if I just open a tunnel here?”

Boreas whined about having to leave his physical form behind, but Aster ignored him.

“Go right ahead. We’ll see you tomorrow!” he said, still laughing as he waved them off.

With that, Aster tapped open a tunnel, and dashed off to the Warren, Jack and Boreas in tow.

  
  


~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

  
  


Aster shouldered open the door to the burrow, took a few steps inside, and summarily dropped Jack on a couch. The sprite squawked at the treatment.

“Hey! I’m drunk here! A little compassion would be appreciated!”

“A _real_ drunk wouldn’t have managed such a sentence,” Aster scoffed. “You know as well as I do that you’re only buzzed.”

Jack pouted at him for but a moment; a cocky grin flashed across his face as he rolled off the couch seconds later. The door closed behind Aster then, seemingly of it’s own volition - then Jack’s staff clanked in the umbrella stand he kept by the door for that very purpose.

Ah. The Wind had caught up.

Jack took a few wobbly steps, and would have fallen over if Aster’s paw hadn’t shot out to steady him. Jack blinked at him a few times, grinning sheepishly.

“I, ah… might be tipsier than I thought.” Jack winced and gripped him stomach. “Ow.”

Aster snorted. “Ya think, drongo? Do you want me to get you a glass of water?”

Jack gently removed the paw from his shoulder, a determined, if slightly pained, look crossing his face. “No, thanks. I can do this myself.”

He made it as far as the kitchen, before his back stiffened. A second later, Jack was half-stumbling, half-running down the hall towards - the bathroom? What-

Aster cringed. Ah. Vomiting. He hadn’t realized Jack could drink himself that far. He’d have to watch the sprite tomorrow. The vomiting didn’t last long, thankfully, and the sound of running water followed a moment later.

“Do you need any help, Frostbite?”

An unintelligible noise was his answer, but it sounded negatory, so Aster shrugged and sat down on the couch, picking up the book he’d been reading recently and finding his place.

Jack meandered out of the bathroom a few minutes later, a light sheen of sweat decorating his brow. “Okay, eww. I didn’t know I could do that. Eww. Just… eww. Bunny, don’t let me drink that much again, ‘kay? That was just… eww.”

Aster nodded, glancing up from his book. “Sure thing, mate. Still don’t want my help?”

Jack seemed to consider that for a moment, but shook his head; he winced again and pressed gently against his stomach. “Ow. Stupid tummy. Nah, I can manage. Thanks though. It’s my fault I’m messed up, after all. I think I’m going to go get that glass of water now.” He frowned. “Why’s it so warm in here?”

“Alcohol can make you feel warmer, you know,” Aster noted offhandedly.

Jack casually flipped him off. He chuckled and returned to his book, keeping an ear on Jack’s progress as he padded into the kitchen, opened a cupboard, and clinked the glasses against each other as he pulled one down. The tap turned on right after, and shut off a few seconds after that.

Just as he decided Jack was fine, he was startled to hear Jack choke.

“Bunny?” Jack gasped. “W-why is- is it so _hot-_ ”

Jack’s question turned into a pained groan, accompanied by the sounds of glass shattering against the stone floor, and vomiting.

Tossing his book aside, Aster dashed into the kitchen - and froze in horror.

Jack was vomiting _blood_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, what happen? *le gasp*


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long delay; besides my desire to get the actual biology and medical stuff as accurate as I could, I realized halfway into the chapter that I had the tone completely wrong. I had to scrap half a chapter and start over, and that took time. On top of this, I started a new job a few weeks ago and I'm still adjusting to my schedule and figuring out where writing fits in.
> 
> Regardless, here's the next chapter. Enjoy~!

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Jack twitched.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Rousing further from sleep, Jack mumbled, “Bunny, turn it off.”

At least, that’s what he tried to do. There was something stuck in his mouth, so it came out as more of a gurgle and a wheeze. Still, it got Bunny’s attention.

“Jack? Jack! Thank El-Ahrairah, you’re awake!”

The relief expressed by that exclamation woke Jack up more fully than the volume ever could have. He cracked an eye open, and turned his head towards the annoying noise.

A… heart monitor? Maybe? It looked weird - kind of sci-fi, actually, with the lack of cables and smooth, slim, tablet-like design - but the pattern on the screen was something he’d seen in countless hospitals.

He hummed questioningly - damn, his throat _hurt_ \- and Bunny rushed over.

“How ya feeling, mate?”

Jack stared at him flatly. Bunny blinked a few times, and then smacked his forehead.

“Right! Right, uh... let me just… get that breathing apparatus off you first,” he said as he reached forward. “I wasn’t sure just how bad off you were, so I figured you’d be better off with the device than not.”

Jack expected there to be straps and tubes and whatever else was used with modern medical equipment, but instead of all that, Bunny - pressed a button on Jack’s cheek? A faint hiss and whir later, and the apparatus retracted painlessly from his mouth and dropped into Bunny’s waiting paw where it hovered over the bedsheets.

“... _cool_.”

A faint grin flashed across Bunny’s muzzle at Jack’s reaction. He turned to put it on a nearby table, and said, “You were out for about half an hour there; I was getting worried.”

He turned around again, and flashed Jack in the eyes with a penlight. Without warning.

_Naturally._

“Hey!” Jack protested, flinching away and hastily closing his eyes.

“Just checking your dilation reflex. Looks good,” he said, tone light. _He surprised me on purpose, the bastard_. “Now, how’re you feeling?”

Jack considered the question for a moment. “I’m tired, I ache, my mouth feels fuzzy, and my throat’s sore.” He paused for another moment, assessing. “My stomach hurts, I might have a headache, and I still feel warm.” He made a face. “Just _peachy_ , Captain Fuzzybutt.”

Bunny hummed and picked up and tablet - probably a tablet, since it was about the right size and, as far as Jack could tell, appeared to be a handheld computer - and started tapping away on it with one paw.

“Sarcasm duly noted,” he replied dryly, after a moment’s typing. “I’m documenting all this, just in case the most likely diagnosis isn’t correct. Better safe than sorry, I like to say.”

Jack let that sit for a few moments, mind drifting between wakefulness and drowsiness. He shook himself mentally when he missed a question from Bunny. “Sorry? I was drifting.”

“I asked if you were still tired, ya drongo. I need you to stay awake for a bit.” Bunny rolled his eyes. “Haematemesis is no laughing matter, ice block, even if you didn’t expel _that_ much blood volume in the first place.”

Jack blinked several times in confusion, processing that. “Hema-ta-whatsit now? Blood? Expel? I am confuse.”

Bunny chuckled lightly, a sort of soft chuffing sound that warmed Jack to hear it. At least he could still get the furball to laugh, even when abed and barely functional. “Haematemesis. Literal translation from Greek is ‘blood vomiting.’ Which is what you did. All over my kitchen.”

Jack winced. “Oh. Um… sorry?”

The Pooka waved him off. “Not your fault, mate. Well, technically, it probably is, but neither of us knew you could _actually_ consume enough alcohol to damage your stomach lining and causing it to bleed. I should have stopped you long before the drinking ‘game’ with Zeus. I’ve got the elf cleaning up the mess anyway.”

Jack nodded. It was probably true. He paused, and blinked. Waitaminute.

“He _listened_ to you?”

Bunny shrugged as he turned to check a few machines that were beeping softly. “He likes you. You’re sick, so he’s helping.”

Jack mulled that over. It made an odd sort of sense. After a couple minutes of comfortable silence, a thought occurred to him.

“So…”

An ear swiveled in his direction. “So?”

Jack grinned mischievously. “ _Doctor_ Bunnymund, what’s the prognosis?”

The Pooka snorted. “Do you even know what that word _means_?”

“I’ll have you know I’ve watched _plenty_ of medical dramas to know that word! It means ‘what’s wrong with me?’”

Bunny snorted again, and turned to look at Jack, clearly amused despite himself. “That’s _diagnosis_ , ya drongo. _Prognosis_ is the probably outcome of whatever ails you.”

Jack snapped his fingers under the covers. “Drat. I always get those two backwards.” He grinned cheekily at Bunny. “My question still stands though. What happened?”

“Based on the symptoms observed in the patient - er, you - alcohol poisoning, or nearly so. The haematemesis just about proves it, in light of the copious intake of alcohol earlier today,” he replied, tapping the tablet for emphasis at the word ‘observed’. “But, given the fever, which does not match up with the rest, I’m going to run several tests to be sure. Some sort of opportunistic infection, perhaps. We’ll know more soon. After…”

He trailed off, somewhat ominously in Jack’s opinion, and turned to a tray of instruments. They clinked against each other as he rummaged through them.

“After…?”

Bunny presented what looked like a fancy-pants syringe. Jack swallowed thickly, and groaned.

“Ewww. _Needles_.”

“Sorry, Frostbite. Need some of your blood to run tests.”

“Fine, fine, just… I’m going to stare at the wall, and you’ll tell me when you’re done. I’ll flinch if I watch you stick me.”

Bunny hummed in answer, and Jack turned to stare resolutely at the wall, which... come to think of it-

“Is this my room? It doesn’t _look_ like my room,” Jack asked, before grimacing when he felt the prick of the needle. “It’s so… bare. Clinical _. Boring._ ”

He either did not notice, or did not care, that Jack’s voice had turned whiny by the time he’d finished speaking.

Instead, he simply responded, tone calm, and surprisingly patient, “It is, but I had to basically redecorate in a hurry to make it your impromptu infirmary. I stored all the knickknacks on the spare table in the library. We can put your room to rights once your healthy again.” Another hum, this one pleased. “All done!”

Jack turned and blinked at the Pooka a few times. “I barely felt that. How come the yeti aren’t as gentle?”

Bunny snorted, and then said, “They’re used to dealing with North, and having to… well, stab him, more or less.” He paused, and grinned conspiratorially. It was a good look on the Kangaroo's face. “Why, I once saw him almost _faint_ at the very sight of a needle.”

He waggled the needle in his paw back and forth for emphasis. Jack’s grin turned into a frown at the sight of it.

“Wot?”

“My blood looks funny.”

Bunny blinked, and eyed the syringe in concern. “How so?”

“It’s usually kind of a… reddish purple? Purplish red? Something like that. Anyway. That’s… more like a... bluish red? Reddish blue?” A beat. “That’s not ominous _at all_.”

“I… think I’ll run a few more tests than I’d planned.”

Jack went to agree with that idea, but was cut off by a sudden wave of lethargy, and a yawn. “Wow, I’m tired.”

“I’m not surprised, mate. If you need more rest, I think it’s safe for now.”

Jack shifted around in the bed a bit so that he could watch as Bunny moved around the room; he’d probably pass out long before the overgrown lagomorph finished, but it was at least mildly interesting.

He paused. The thin blanket had shifted against skin when he’d moved.

_All over._

“... Bunny?”

“Yes, mate?” He said, turning around and quirking an eyebrow inquiringly.

“Am I… naked?” Was… was Bunny blushing? His nose had certainly reddened in shade, and his ears had drooped. “Bunny?”

“I, ah… that is, well…” He seemed to be grasping at words; it was kind of cute, seeing the Pooka all flustered like this. “I, ah… well. Your clothes... they were dirty. So… they’re in the, ah, wash. Sooo… yes.”

Jack felt a faint blush warm his cheeks further though, oddly, no frost followed. Must be how sick he was. “Well… it’s not like you’ve not seen me naked before.”

Bunny shrugged awkwardly, and went back to fiddling with the… centrifuge? Blood-examining device? Jack Frost sick-o-meter? Whatever it was….

Jack hummed softly; it was weird for him to be even a little embarrassed about nudity around Bunny. It had never bothered him before, and he always wandered around naked when his clothes were being washed, or he was being too lazy to dress properly. Strange… he’d have to think on it some more, when he wasn’t so freaking tired.

 _Why_ hadn’t he fallen asleep yet?

“So,” Jack drawled a few more minutes of silence later, dragging out the word until it was a half-dozen syllables long. “Whatcha doin’?”

Jack could _hear_ the eye roll from across the room, even if he couldn’t see it. So he was pestering. Bunny’d just have to deal. He was ill, after all. Totally valid excuse.

_Totally._

“I’m preparing this device to count everything in your blood, physical and metaphysical. It’s similar to a procedure the humans’ve developed, but this device here does more, and faster,” Bunny replied, a note of pride coloring his voice. “I should have a better idea of what’s wrong in a few hours, at most. Depends on how many different things there’re to count. Hard to know exactly, given I’ve not run your blood before.”

Jack opened his mouth to answer - and hissed instead, his left hand shifting under the blanket to press against his right forearm. He quickly pulled away; the pressure had made it hurt even _more_.

“Owwww,” he whinged, not caring how childish he sounded at that particular moment.

“I just poked you with a needle?” Bunny suggested offhandedly, even as he hurriedly padded over to Jack. He pulled the blanket down to have a look, and stared.

“That… wasn’t there before.”

Jack glanced down to find a large, blue-tinged bruise forming on the inside of his elbow.

“Bunny?”

The tablet reappeared in an instant.

“Sudden bruising of the antecubital fossa.” He glanced up at Jack’s face. “I’m going to touch it, okay?”

Jack nodded. Bunny pressed gently against the bruise. The Pooka’s paw flew away from Jack’s arm when he hissed as if he’d been the one to feel the burning sensation.

“Ow. Ow ow ow. It burns, when you do that.” Jack considered the bruise for a moment while the sharp burning sensation faded. “It’s just kind of... sore? Ish? When you’re not touching it.”

Bunny frowned, and made a few more notes. He tapped the tablet against his lip thoughtfully for a moment, and then pulled the blanket down to Jack’s waist. “There’s a few more small bruises forming here, here, here, and… here.”

Jack winced as Bunny touched each spot on his stomach and chest, in turn. “Yeah, ow. Burns, but only when you press on them.”

“Strange. That’s quite unusual, at least insofar as to what has already transpired.” At Jack’s inquiring look, he added, “I normally see those with certain kinds of injuries, not… alcohol-related conditions.”

He paused, a look of embarrassment flashing across his features.

Jack frowned suspiciously. “Whaaat?”

“... I should probably check the rest of your body.” Bunny glanced to the side. “For, ah… for science?”

Jack felt his cheeks heat up, and stifled the giggle that tried to well up at Bunny’s blatant joke.

“Um… right. O-Okay. I’ll just, uh… yeah.” He shook himself mentally, although the blush never faded. “Right. As my _doctor_ , of course you do.”

Bunny twitched at the word ‘doctor’, and nodded gratefully. He pulled the blankets all the way down, and carefully examined Jack’s legs and feet, quite conspicuously avoiding Jack’s pelvic region. Finished with his front, he carefully turned Jack on his side and checked his back.

Despite the burning sensation when Bunny touched the bruise on the side of his right buttocks, a tingle shot up Jack’s spine at the contact. He resolutely ignored the reaction, as best he could, and waited for Bunny to finish. After another few moments of investigation, he gently settled Jack on his back, and stared at the blanket next to his hip, visibly preparing himself.

When Bunny started examining Jack’s pelvic region, much to the sprite’s horror, he felt himself twitch slightly. The Pooka obviously noticed, too, since his ears drooped precipitously low. After a few awkward moments, Bunny swallowed thickly, and announced, with something of a squeak, that he was done, and hastily pulled the blankets back up and tucked Jack in.

By now, Jack’s blush has traveled down his neck and was quickly covering his clavicle, and Bunny’s distracted staring was _not_ helping. Nor was the fact he’d paused in tucking Jack in, to _continue_ staring at his clavicle.

“Uh… Earth to Bunny? _Hallo_ the Giant Space Rabbit! Anybody in there?”

The full-body twitch and startled honk almost made the embarrassment worth it.

“Uh, right! Sorry there, um… yeah, sorry, mate. I’ll just, uh…” He finished tucking the covers around Jack’s shoulders, and backed away with a bit too much haste. It was very amusing, and rather cute.

Jack went to tease him for his reaction. Instead, however, he blinked slowly, and yawned again.

“Whoa, okay, yeah, I’m _really_ tired. Aaand… my head definitely hurts. I think I’m gonna take a nap.” He paused for several long seconds, and continued to slowly blink at Bunny, while he grappled with himself mentally, in search of the words he wanted to say. “I suppose you can’t give me anything, right? It’s just… this headache, and the bruises… I’m tired, yeah, but... _not_ helping.”

Bunny looked immensely thankful for the distraction. “Sorry, mate,” he said, absently reaching out to pet Jack’s hair. It _was_ rather soothing. “Those kinds of medications don’t mix well with alcohol.”

Jack hummed softly, enjoying the petting more than he probably should. He mentally hushed the small, naughty voice in the back of his mind that _immediately_ suggested a lot of lewd and colorful things he could say or do to get more reactions out of the Pooka, instead asking, “Do you... um, words. What are words. Brain. _Work_.”

Well. Jack was only slightly bemused to discover the fact that Bunny petting his hair was an effective way to make his mind even mushier than it already was. Good to know.

He paused, and forced his brain to supply the word he wanted. “Dreamsand?”

Bunny held up a finger and paused, thinking. “I might, at that. A few grains to help you get to sleep shouldn’t do any harm.”

Bunny left the room and returned a minute later, carrying a small green velvet pouch. He undid the golden cord holding it closed, and hefted it in his palm.

“Here we go. I usually keep a little bit on hand, in case I’ve got a case of insomnia. Happens sometimes.”

Jack made an inquiring sound. Bunny shrugged noncommittally.

“My brain won’t shut up some nights. Curse of being an artist _and_ an inventor.”

Jack giggled lightly. Bunny took a tiny pinch of the sand from the pouch. “I’ll use just enough to put you under, but no more; I want to be able to wake you if something changes.”

“‘Kay. Night Bun-Bun.”

Bunny’s smile was gentle as he answered quietly, “Night Jack.”

 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

 

Jack asleep, Aster turned to his instruments and finished preparations for the tests he wanted to perform. Once the machines were done cycling and counting, he’d have an idea of which direction of investigation to pursue further.

It took Aster most of an hour to prepare everything - he was running a lot of tests, and there was only so much blood to around, and he didn’t want to take more from Jack than he had to - but he eventually had all the little machines softly whirring, or buzzing, or whatever noises they made while active.

Satisfied, he turned to look at Jack. He hummed, and went over to adjust the IV stand into a better position. That settled, he stepped out of the room long enough to retrieve his favorite chair from the sitting room, and quietly moved it into position next to Jack’s bedside.

Settling in and taking the tablet in hand, a stray lock of hair that had gotten in Jack’s face caught his eye. He gently reached over and tucked it being the slumbering sprite’s ear. If his gaze perhaps lingered overlong afterwards, there was no one to catch him in the act, and Jack didn’t seem to mind his staring so much.

This only lent credence to the Dionysus’ and Eros’ theory. Aster still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about the situation, but now was not the time. Once Jack had recovered, they could… talk.

Talking sounded good.

Forcing himself to look away from Jack’s peaceful expression, resolutely ignoring both the urge to find a sketchbook and the urge to kiss the sprite - now was emphatically _not_ the time - he turned his eyes to the tablet and began reviewing Jack’s symptoms.

It was odd, really. All of Jack’s initial symptoms had presented as straightforward alcohol poisoning, with a possible side of opportunistic infection, or perhaps just some peculiarity of Jack’s unusual physiology. That, in and of itself, made getting a firm diagnosis more difficult; Jack’s body just didn’t work like a ‘normal’ living, breathing organism’s did.

For one, the way his body - usually - responded to alcohol. It was almost as if he had no saturation point; though that appeared to not be the case, presuming an accurate diagnosis.

One of the devices beeped softly. Ah. The blood alcohol level test was complete. Quick, as usual. He’d opted for a more thorough test than the equivalent of the device humans used to check via breath, given both the sheer amount Jack had consumed, and the varied and possibly enchanted quantities thereof. The breath test would never have picked up any magical side effects, after all.

Aster blinked. _Zero-point-two-eight?_ Extrapolating backwards… damn. While Jack had been well over point-three, and only been behaving as if he was less than half that level, it was not nearly enough for poisoning. In regular humans, it usually occurred in the zero-point-four or five range, though some few nutters had managed to go well over one-point-zero and survive.

Aster sighed heavily; that hypothesis had been shot to pieces. Now to figure out what was really troubling Jack, and quickly. He still wasn’t entirely sure they were ‘out of the woods’, as he’d heard Jack say once; especially now that the alcohol poisoning hypothesis was proven false. Drunk, yes, but ‘safely’ so.

He turned back to the tablet and reviewed the symptoms again. It was several minutes later before he realized his free paw had been gently stroking the back of Jack’s exposed right hand. He glared at the treacherous paw in complete betrayal.

 _By El-Ahrairah’s balls_ , he was completely and totally done for, as far as Jack was concerned. It was only a matter of time.

Annoyed with his lack of self-control, he returned his attention to the tablet, making sure to use _both_ paws to hold it this time. He kept reviewing his notes, over and over and over and-

_Beep!_

Aster started awake.

“Wot?” he exclaimed in confusion.

Bloody hell. He’d passed out. Aster glanced at the tablet’s clock; he’d been asleep for nearly three hours. Damn and double damn.

At least the tests were done. He padded quietly over to check the results. Now if only he had some idea of what he was _looking for_ -

“Wot?”

That couldn’t be right. Jack’s white blood cell count was through the roof; over _fifteen thousand_ per cubic millimeter. He started skimming the rest of the results. Several other things were normal, or within expected parameters given the alcohol Jack had consumed-

Glucose over _one-hundred-and-sixty-five_ milligrams per deciliter?

Hang on a tick.

The _burns_.

He scrambled around to the other side of the table and grabbed the remaining blood sample; there was enough for one more test. He quickly prepped the sample and all-but-threw it into the machine, and tapped in the test. With only one thing to look for, the test came back in mere minutes.

When the results appeared on the screen, Aster had to catch himself on the table to prevent himself from falling in shock.

Jack’s ferritin levels were _eight-hundred-and-ninety-four_ _micrograms per deciliter_.

Natural human male range was no more than about _thirty-three_.

Aster felt his pulse race as he reached one inescapable conclusion.

Jack had been poisoned.

_With iron._

Aster’s moment of realization was interrupted abruptly by the heart monitor screaming out one long, continuous beep.

 _His_ hearts may have skipped several beats-

But Jack’s heart _had stopped._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not evil, you're all evil.
> 
> ....  
> ....  
> ....
> 
> Just kidding, I'm _totally_ evil.


End file.
